Black Cards
by cavlik97
Summary: Natasha Romanoff hates birthdays. Clint Barton loves pushing her limits. Through Fury, their partnership and past and a prestigious job offer, he manages to show her how much she means to him. [Post movie - Clintasha]


Natasha Romanoff hated birthdays. It was just another reminder that she was one day closer to inevitable death, whether it be natural or not. One day closer to the day she had to step down from being at S.H.I.E.L.D. She usually tried ridiculously hard to get assigned on a solo mission over her birthday so that she would receive no (or a limited number) of wishes. Generally, the only people who knew the significance of the day and sent her something were Fury, Clint and sometimes Maria Hill if she was in a particularly average mood. Since the Battle of Manhattan however, as the avengers had taken up living in Tony Stark's Stark Tower (recently christened the _Avengers _Tower), Fury had sent over a watered down file on each avenger to be stored in JARVIS' system. Pepper, who refused to let Tony pry into private details of his teammates, secured them under a pass code only known to her but Natasha suspected she'd taken a look for herself to understand what she was getting herself into when being in a relationship with Tony.

On Natasha's first birthday after the Battle of Manhattan, it turned out that the mission that was supposed to pan out from a week before the special day till two weeks _after_ was cut short when the target died abruptly from an irritatingly normal heart attack. Natasha was pulled out of Chile within the hour and returned to S.H.I.E.L.D for her debrief. Agent Hill was the one to bring her in to the base and said nothing more than three sentences 'Welcome back Agent Romanoff.' followed by 'Any injuries?' and then 'You're not getting any preferential treatment today, don't think I'm not sending you to the hospital wing after your debrief – I can see your limp.'

To this, Natasha almost smiled, stepping quickly in time with Agent Hill towards Fury's office, ignoring the sharp pain in her right leg. When she arrived and Hill left her alone with the director, Fury was quiet for a moment.

'Sir?' Natasha asked uneasily, rattled by his unusual silence. 'Is everything alright? The target – he _is _dead, right...?'

'Yes, yes, the mission went fine – despite its unexpected turn,' Fury assured. He glanced over at Natasha. 'You've been in S.H.I.E.L.D a long time Agent.'

Natasha was taken aback but she simply nodded slowly. 'Yes sir.'

'Ever think of leaving?'

'No sir.'

'Why not?'

'I've nowhere to go.'

'You do. You have the Avengers Tower. You could always simply be an avenger without the ties to S.H.I.E.L.D. Goodness knows that's what some of your other teammates do.'

Natasha frowned. 'With all due respect sir...but where the hell is this coming from?'

Fury shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. 'It's your birthday, Agent Romanoff.'

'I'm well aware, sir.'

'You've never celebrated it in all the time you've been at S.H.I.E.L.D.'

'I don't like celebrating it, sir.'

'Why not?'

'There are no positive connotations with birthdays, in my opinion.'

Fury didn't reply to this. 'Agent, you are a one of a kind agent in our ranks. There is most definitely nobody in S.H.I.E.L.D to compare to you or to Agent Barton.'

Natasha felt her stomach flip at the mention of Clint. She'd been longing to see him since she'd stepped foot on the base and Fury's cryptic interrogation wasn't ideal.

'Thank you sir,' Natasha replied hesitantly. 'I think.'

Fury let out a low chuckle. 'Natasha, I want you to become a member of the black-card ranks.'

Natasha's mouth went dry and her heart dropped into her stomach in astonishment. Years ago, when she'd first joined S.H.I.E.L.D, she remembered seeing a group of prestigious and expert agents swipe clearance cards with black stripes across a scanner, walking with ease into a corridor that was closed off and restricted for senior management such as Fury. Natasha had turned to Clint, demanding who they were and what gave them such high access.

'Ah,' Clint said knowingly when she described what she'd seen. 'They're a part of the black-carded ranks.'

'How ominous,' Natasha had said, muffling a laugh at the name.

'Ominous and dangerous,' Clint had warned. 'Agents in the black-card ranks are without any exaggeration, the best of the best in S.H.I.E.L.D They've been here for years and have come out of countless battles on the brink of death and then gotten up the next day and walked away as if nothing happened. You get sent out on solo or duo missions only that are completely classified. Only you, your partner and Fury know what mission you're being sent on. The mission files are destroyed if it goes awry. Agents in the black-card ranks get full access to almost all files in S.H.I.E.L.D as well as clearance anywhere on the base or in any S.H.I.E.L.D station. It's one of the highest honours in the institution, Tash. Nearly every agent here is working towards being a member of the ranks.'

'Are _you _working towards it?' asked Natasha quietly. She'd only been here six months and she already couldn't imagine S.H.I.E.L.D if she wasn't working with Clint.

'Only if you are too,' he'd replied with a small smile and a twinkle in the corner of his eye to which Natasha had turned away to hide her grin.

'Agent Romanoff,' Fury said now, breaking her out of her trance. 'The black-carded ranks.'

'I...but...sir...' Natasha stammered, stunned that she was at a lost for words. She exhaled, cleared her head and looked Fury straight in his good eye. 'What about Agent Barton?'

Fury's lips curved upwards. 'I already offered him the position. He's waiting for you decision. It weighs on you.'

Natasha swallowed. 'What about the avengers? Are we still allowed to be a part of that team?'

'Of course,' Fury answered. 'Your place on the black-card ranks does not affect your place on the avengers team.'

'Then yes. I would be honoured to accept, sir.'

Fury gave her a nod. 'I will send Agent Hill to the Avengers Tower later today to deliver the rank files to you and Agent Barton. And I wouldn't worry about visiting the hospital wing after this. No need to take up the doctor's time.'

'Yes sir.'

'As for the Chile mission – good work on keeping your head. Many agents may have made a rash move if their target was taken out unexpectedly. Well done.'

'Thank you sir.'

'Dismissed.'

Natasha turned to leave the office, head spinning. All the pain in her right leg had suddenly disappeared. This day had been far too eventful for her liking and all she wanted now was to collapse on one of Tony Stark's leather couches with a coffee and sweat pants.

'Natasha,' Fury said softly just as she was about to leave. Natasha glanced over her shoulder curiously.

'Happy birthday,' the director said with a smile.

For the first time in years, Natasha smothered her scowl with a genuine smile that met her eyes. 'Thank you. It's been a good day so far.'

–**)(– **

She walked into the 5th floor of the Avengers tower (which was the general, all purpose floor with thee wide screen televisions, the training gym, the huge kitchen, the balcony and all the gadgets) to find Steve making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Tony and Bruce tinkering around with a robotic hand, Pepper updating JARVIS files and Clint removing his boxing wraps from his right hand.

'Tash!' he exclaimed in surprise. 'I thought... I thought your mission ended in two weeks?'

'Target died of a heart attack,' Natasha shrugged in response, letting her bag drop to the floor with a _thud. _'Unexpected but everything worked out okay.'

'Hey there Spidey,' Tony called. 'Good mission?'

'As good as taking out a Chilean mobster can get,' Natasha returned. 'I'd ask what you're doing but I'm not sure I want to know.'

'We're trying to reboot one of the systems on Tony's Iron Man suit,' Bruce provided. 'It's good to have you back.'

Natasha gave him a smile. There was no denying that Bruce was one of the nicest people she'd ever met, despite his ugly green rage monster. She returned her attention to Clint who had just tossed aside his wraps and stepped towards her to speak quietly enough for only the two of them to hear.

'Has Fury talked to you yet?' he asked.

'Who do you think debriefed me?'

'And?'

Natasha smirked. 'Ominous and dangerous, here we come.'

Clint's face broke out into a wide grin. 'You accepted!'

'Of course I did. You wouldn't have joined if I hadn't and you've been working towards this your entire career.'

Clint's eyes softened. 'Wait – you did this for me?'

'Who else would I do it for? I'm in S.H.I.E.L.D because I have nowhere else to go. Whether I'm in the black-card ranks or not, it makes no difference. The only thing that decided if I accepted or not was you.'

Clint seemed at a loss for words so instead, he just touched her arm lightly, sending shivers up Natasha's spine.

'Happy birthday, Tasha,' he murmured, kissing her quickly on the cheek. 'Your present's in your room.'

'How many times do I have to tell you _not _to – '

'Every year and counting,' Clint shot back with a wink. 'Also, knowing you, you breezed right past the hospital wing and Fury let you and Maria Hill will murder me if I don't make sure you're not dying so be ready in half an hour with a first aid kit.'

'I hate you Clint,' Natasha muttered, reaching down and swinging her gear bag back over her shoulder and jamming the elevator button with her good hand. Since every avenger was on the 5th floor, the elevator arrived and had her on her own, personal floor within 30 seconds. Dumping her bag by the door, Natasha immediately unzipped her suit and eased out of it tentatively, hissing with a wince a couple of times before letting it drop to the floor around her ankles and be kicked aside. She surveyed the external damage in the mirror quickly, eyeing the few bruises on her ribs, the scrapes on her thigh and the extensive purpling along the outer side of her right leg.

'I'll be fine,' she said to herself, slipping into loose, grey sweat pants and a black tank top that she had laid out on her bed before she'd left a week ago. Once dressed, her eyes came to rest on the sleek, black, long rectangular box that was in the middle of her bed with a note placed on top of it. Unimpressed, Natasha took the note between her fingers, reading it with a sigh.

_I know you Tasha and you won't settle for jewelry, new weapons or presents in general. But I need you to have this. It's not something that you can exchange at a gift store or throw back on my bed in refusal or give to Pepper instead. It will only have value to you and I only hope it means as to you as it does to me. _

_-Clint_

Natasha gulped, now nervous and extremely anxious. With a cautious hand, she lifted the lid of the box to find one, singular arrow lying there that could only belong to her partner judging by its appearance and make. Slightly confused, Natasha picked it up, rolling it around in her hand to try and find its symbolism. Small words, engraved along the length of the arrow suddenly caught her eye.

_The arrow that was never fired._

All breath left Natasha. Oh.

This was the arrow that Clint had geared up, ready to fire and pierce through her chest when he'd been given the order to kill her. But he hadn't.

This arrow could have killed her. Could have ended her life long ago before anything got better where she could smile and laugh and decide that even if she was commissioned to an agency like S.H.I.E.L.D, that life was still worth it.

'Good enough present, there Widow?' he asked from her doorway.

'Thank you,' she breathed. She'd lost count of how many times she'd said those words today. 'I can't believe you know _which arrow _it actually was.'

'It stayed locked away as soon as I came back from that mission,' Clint informed, closing the door behind him and making his way over to her. 'This arrow made my life worthwhile.'

Natasha turned to face him, now confused. Yes, this arrow had changed _her _life. It had changed his no doubt to, his life would not be the way it was now if she hadn't become his partner... but _worthwhile_? He already had goals and standards before he'd met her – things he'd wanted to do in his lifetime, with his career – how did saving her life make any difference to that?

'You said that I wouldn't have joined the black-card ranks if you hadn't and that I've been working towards this my entire career,' Clint said. 'Yes, I've wanted this my entire career and it means so much to me. But it doesn't mean as much as _you _doing it _with _me.' He stepped so close to her that they were inches apart and Natasha could feel her heart pounding relentlessly in her chest. She'd smothered down her feelings for Clint for so many years now that she was ridiculously close to admitting to herself that they weren't there. Right now, he wasn't helping.

'Natasha, any ambitions I had with my life disappeared when you became a part of it,' he practically whispered. 'I don't care about the black-carded ranks or the avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D – all I know is whatever I'm doing, I want to be doing it with you and this arrow is the only reason any of it is possible. What you told me back down on the 5th floor doesn't just apply to you. Whether_ I'm_ in the black-card ranks or not, it makes no difference either. The only thing mattered to me was you I love – '

'Shut up, Barton,' Natasha ordered and she grabbed his t-shirt with a fist and pulled his lips down to hers. His arms immediately locked around her middle, pulling her closer and Natasha could barely feel the burning in her ribs as he subconsciously pressed down on them. She wove her fingers into his unruly brown hair, smiling at the slight stubble on his cheeks that tickled her own skin, proving that he hadn't been to the S.H.I.E.L.D base in at least a couple of days.

'Best birthday,' Natasha murmured against his lips. He chuckled in response, trailing his fingers across her back with a feather light touch that made her toes curl and her stomach flutter.

'If that's the case,' he said with a smug smirk. 'Then maybe you should celebrate more often.'

_**fin.**_


End file.
